


The Burden of Nightmares

by fencingfox



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recall, Tramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-09-26 21:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20396197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencingfox/pseuds/fencingfox
Summary: "Thank you," she purrs, a little surprised but ready none-the-less. He pulls his hand back and smiles knowingly at her before picking up his tray to leave. She watches him go, catching herself staring at his well-formed ass. When Tom and his perfect ass are out of sight, she turns to Harry who is finishing his orange juice. She never sees him drink coffee. It makes him seem more childish than he already is. "Do you know what is up with him?" She gestures to the door where Tom just exited. "One minute he's flirty, the next he shuts me out." Harry regards her, debating how much is safe to tell her.





	1. How Come I Never Wake Up?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay warning time. Tom has _very bad_ nightmares. They involve rape. Don't read this if you aren't ready to read it.

_Faceless figures shift around him. Tom made to run away, but a pair of hands grabs his arms bruskly. Tears spring to his eyes. His shoulders burn as they hold his arms behind his back uncomfortably._

_"Please, no, don't." It's no use. A dark figure laughs and sidles up to him. It takes his chin in his hands and kisses him. Tom doesn't give in like it wants him to so the figure pulls away and slaps his face. Tom whimpers. Another pair of hands pull his pants and boxers away._

_"Stop, please. Help!" He calls out. One of the forms stuffs Tom's mouth with the end of his boxers. He doesn't think anyone will come to help, but he has to try. He has to try. Tears spill over the rims of his eyes. Someone slices his back, slicing across his spine. He can feel the blood pour over his still healing wounds. Another knife bites into his lower stomach under his shirt. He closes his eyes, trying to transport himself somewhere, anywhere better. Someone begins fondling him. He feels dirty as his cock gets hard. His body wants release but his mind cries for escape. Someone enters him with a finger to widen him enough for a penis. He whimpers and asks again for mercy, knowing what is to come, knowing it won't be mercy._

_His scream is swallowed by his boxers when the fingers withdraw and a penis takes their place. There is too much in his mouth to spit out so he is forced to keep the boxers there until his captors decide otherwise. When the first one finishes with a grunt, the second takes his place. _At least it doesn't hurt as much..._ The ejaculate of the first is enough to let the second slide into Tom easily. The first turns to Tom's needs and jacks him off, letting the sticky substance cover his shirt. It is the third such ruined shirt. Tom anguishes that he doesn't have any to replace it. When the second finishes, it takes Tom's arms and presses him to the hard floor so that the third can have his turn. They leave him there, lying in blood and ejaculate. He reaches up to his mouth annoyed to pull the boxers from them._

Tom wakes up finally. He sits up and rubs his face with a groan. _How can I never wake up before they hurt me?_ His body hurt like it had actually happened. He looks around the darkness as his eyes adjust. He isn't in Auckland. He's 70 thousand light years away in the safety of _Voyager_. The thought calms him slightly. He throws his covers from his body and goes to the replicator for some Chamomile tea to calm his nerves. He takes the tea to his couch and sips at it while looking over a stray PADD there. It holds nothing overly important: just his helm report from yesterday. He forgot to turn it in. He sighs. _Maybe a walk to Chakotay will calm me._ He finishes the tea and sets it in the reclaimer before going to his bathroom to grab a terrycloth robe. He ties it around his waist, slides his feet into some slippers, grabs the PADD and begins the long walk to Chakotay's quarters. He doesn't want to see anyone but he was right, the cooler air of the corridor and having something for his legs to do works the lingering ache from his muscles. He sets the PADD in the small plastic folder on the wall and turns to leave. His eyes meet another's who is also returning a late night PADD. She is in uniform so he figures hers isn't late. 

"Hi, Tom. Couldn't sleep?" B'Elanna's eyes prowl up his body. He doesn't miss it, he just doesn't want it. B'Elanna has been overtly flirting with him for the past week. He can't have her. He can't even masturbate without those memories. The last time—_No._—he can't bring himself to recall the last time anyone bothered to touch him. She slips past him to deposit her PADD in the plastic folder. 

"No, I couldn't. I woke up." 

"Bad dreams?" She has a far away look. _How did she know?_ "I get them too sometimes." He wonders what her bad dreams are. Maybe he'll ask one day. 

"Yeah. I never seem to wake up before the worst parts." She shakes her head and smiles softly, sympathetically. 

"Me neither." He smiles weakly at her. "If you ever want to talk about it, you can talk to me." Tom nods his head even as he knows that he'll never take her up on the offer. 

"Well, I'd better get back to sleep." He gestures toward his quarters. B'Elanna's eyes darken. Tom feels his chest constrict. 

"Want company?" He isn't expecting that and is taken aback. It takes a while for him to answer. 

"I...um...no," his words stumble out of his mouth. _*I don't want to explain my nightmares to her when they eventually wake me.*_ "I think I just need to sleep." She looks...disappointed, Tom realizes. He feels a little bad for her. He knows what it feels like to have an offer for a night together rebuffed. 

"Alright, if you change your mind." She lifts up on her toes and pecks him on the lips. "You know where to find me." She turns around and sways down the corridor back toward engineering or her quarters; Tom isn't sure, ironically. He presses a hand to his lips. Hers had been soft, lightly chapped. His own are the same. He shakes his head and begins for his quarters. He doesn't know what to do with her. He'd stopped his playboy flirtations with her once she started responding in earnest. All of the sly glances and upbeat comments were disguises he uses to keep people from getting close. They just don't work if the person receiving them responds in kind. He sighs as he comes to his quarters. Tom will have to tell her sooner or later that he isn't interested point blank. Maybe that will stem her affections toward him. He doesn't entirely believe that. B'Elanna seems like a woman who knows how to get what she wants. And right now she wants him. The door opens to permit him inside. He sheds the robe and climbs into bed without bothering to turn the lights on. 


	2. Was it Just a Bad Dream?

The next day's shift is uneventful. Tom easily manages to navigate _Voyager_ on the few hours of fitful sleep that he'd managed to claim the previous night. When his shift ends, he joins Harry for a few drinks and a game of pool in Sandrine's. He feels almost normal. Almost. Garry Gaunt stands too close to him for much of the night. It makes his skin crawl and regret programming the Juggalo, even if he knows the hologram only watches his playing. Tom says goodbye to Harry and turns in early for the night. He isn't hungry and he doesn't need to wash himself so he simply crawls into bed and goes to sleep. 

_"Let's butter him up a bit first," a husky voice says behind him. Tom begins to run, but another shadowy figure steps in front of him quickly. This figure seems to agree with the voice and produces a a shiv from his sleeve to slice at the middle of Tom's chest through his shirt. Tom winces at the sting. There is something on the blade—alcohol? lemon juice? vinegar?—that makes his cut sting. He moves his hands to push the attacker away. He succeeds but ends up in the arms of the one who'd first spoken. This one wraps his arms around Tom. If it wasn't so terrible, it would have been a pleasant gesture. The attacker in front of him slices Tom's side in one long stroke. He brings the shiv to his mouth and Tom thinks for a moment that the man might cut himself, but instead he licks the blade to taste Tom's blood. The look of satisfaction makes Tom's skin crawl. _I need to get out of here. Wake up, wake up, wake up!_ Even though he knows he's sleeping, Tom can't wake himself. He wonders how Chakotay can. Tom struggles against his bonds, but he can't make them budge. His only hope is to play along. Maybe they'll go easy on him._

_"Mmm, come here." He hates himself for saying it. He sounds genuine, the words roll off his tongue like honey. The man with the knife places his mouth on Tom's, taking aggressively. Tom kisses back, hoping he is doing a good job. The man holding him reaches around him to fondle him under his clothes. _Okay, okay, so far so good._ Maybe he can convince them to let him give them blow jobs before or instead of entering him. Even as he kisses the man in front of him, he feels himself get hard. He also feels the erection of the man behind him press into his back. He wants to recoil, to run away, to yell, to bite something that shouldn't be bitten. Instead, he reluctantly wiggles his backside to encourage the man holding him. The man groans and releases Tom. Tom breaks away from the kiss and turns to face the other man, a sly grin pasted to his face to complete the effect. He places frantic kisses down the man's body. He only wears a pair of boxers. Tom kneels and tugs at the waistband, pulling it down so that he can kiss the coarse hair he finds. Tom feels sick to his stomach but he hopes he doesn't show it. He wraps a hand around the man's cock and puts his mouth on the tip, swirling his tongue around it like he remembered the girls he'd been with before do. The man with the shiv feels left out, Tom notices as he begins tracing short lines down Tom's back. He gasps, surprised to find the light pain slightly pleasurable. When he can't see or feel the penis of the man behind him, he can almost convince himself he's in the middle of a threesome. The man whose cock is in his mouth grabs Tom's hair and slams him onto his cock. Tom gags. When the man releases him, he pulls away. It's a mistake. He hears the shiv clatter on the concrete and Tom's stomach drops out from under him. _No, no, no, no. Come ooon, wake up. Pleeease._ The man pulls Tom to the concrete roughly. His head only barely manages not to bounce on it. He almost wishes it had. At least his suffering would end then. He straddles Tom and begins kissing him while the other man wrenches Tom's arms painfully above his head. His cry of pain is swallowed by the mouth of the man abusing it. He feels his body shake, from shock no doubt. Maybe if he is lucky, he'll pass out this time. It happens sometimes in his dreams still._

"Tom!" Harry shakes his friend awake. The comm lines are down and they are in red alert and need their best pilot at the helm. "Wake up, Tom." Tom comes to, but doesn't know where he is. He places his hands around Harry's neck, thinking him to be an attacker. He is towering over him like Tom remembers his attacker being. Harry tugs at his hands and gasps his name along with a stop or two. The dark shadow that had settled over Harry disperses and Tom sets his friend free. His eyes adjust to the bright room while Harry steps away and holds his abused throat with his hand. 

"What was that for?" He pants. Tom shakes the lingering fear off of him. 

"Just a bad dream. I thought you were someone else." He pulls himself out of bed and begins dressing in his uniform. He can hear the klaxon of the red alert echo in the corridor outside his room. Tom wonders idlily what the issue is. "Sorry." Harry looks sympathetic. Tom pulls the turtleneck over his head and begins tucking it into his pants. 

"Do the nightmares have something to do with all of those scars on your body?" Harry noticed that Tom's torso is covered with thin white scars before he got the turtleneck over his head to hide them. The scars cause patches where his hair doesn't grow. He wonders why he never got them healed so they wouldn't scar when he first got them. Tom sighs. 

"Yeah. It was Auckland," Tom answers as he stands in front of the mirror to attach his two pips. He hopes his shallow tone tells Harry to let up. 

"Auckland? How?" Harry inquires. A thought occurs to him. _No it can't be. Federation prisoners are supposed to be guarded against that sort of thing._ "Is that why you won't let B'Elanna close to you?" Tom freezes mid pip pinning. An image of B'Elanna kissing him crosses his mind. 

"Yes." 

"Have you talked to the Doc yet? He might be able to help. He's no counselor, but maybe there's some medication. Maybe he can heal the scars." Tom knows he can't heal the scars that haunt him now but he'll give it a try. 

"Alright, I'll see him after all this." Tom dons his jacket and slips into his boots. "Lead the way." 

**=/\=**

Tom nervously goes to Sick Bay after the commotion of the red alert dies down. It's over quickly. _Voyager_ easily outmaneuvered the Hirogen hunting party under his careful guidance. They hit warp nine for a few moments just to be safe before Tom relinquished his station to the pilot on duty. He feels like everyone he passes knows exactly why he is heading to Sick Bay, but he tells himself that he is just being paranoid. 

"Computer, activate the Emergency Medical Hologram," he commands as he steps into Sick Bay. The doctor shimmers into existence. 

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency." Upon seeing Tom, the Doctor adds in a sullen voice. "Oh, it's you." He picks up a tricorder and begins scanning Tom. He picks up elevated adrenaline levels which are in line with the recent red alert that he became aware of when he was activated. 

"I've been having nightmares, Doctor." Tom goes to a biobed and hops onto it. The Doctor follows him. "Can you do anything about them?" The Doctor considers him for a moment. 

"Ah, yes. Several of the crew have complained of nightmares. If you describe them, then I can determine if an inhibitor or a stronger sleep aid would be more beneficial to you." Tom shifts uneasily under the Doctor's watchful gaze. He hadn't expected to need to tell him about the nightmares. 

"Well, they are memories from Auckland," he starts. "...several shadowy figures will surround me and cut me, fondle me, and" his voice fades out. He can't say it. 

"Rape you?" the Doctor offers in a hushed tone. His expression is sympathetic when Tom looks up at him. Tom feels a cocktail of emotions: shame, embarrassment, fear, sorrow, pain, smallness. He places a hand on Tom's shoulder. All of the emotions draw back except for sorrow. It fills every crevice of his mind. "I'm sorry that happened to you. If they are mostly memories, then an inhibitor won't do. Ask the replicator for thirteen milligrams of Prazosin nightly. It won't cost you rations. Take it with a glass of water and a meal." Tom hops up from the biobed. 

"Thank you, Doctor." He doesn't look up at him. He doesn't want the Doctor to see his pain. He knows he won't hold it against him, but he doesn't want anyone to see him this way regardless. 

"And I'd like to suggest meditation to help you process these memories and the nightmares associated with them. I'd recommend Tuvok or Chakotay. I've heard good things about both of them." Tom nods without looking up. He wonders vaguely who else sees Tuvok or Chakotay and why they do. 

"I'll reach out to Tuvok this week. Thanks again." Tom heads back to his quarters for another few hours of sleep. He won't start the medication yet; he isn't hungry, but he looks forward to trying it tomorrow. 


	3. How Do You Always Pick Tough Сases?

Tom stops by the messhall for breakfast with Harry and B'Elanna in the morning. His last few hours of sleep too short and his body too tired for the nightmares to come so he's in a better mood than usual. He sets his tray down in front of B'Elanna and joins in their chatter while he eats. He's only half listening. Instead his mind wanders to whether the Doctor's suggestions will help him. 

"And then she told me—get this—she said 'the Borg don't have time for command structure.'" Tom is drawn back to B'Elanna's perfect imitation of Seven. "Can you believe that?" The small group laughs. "Needless to say, I told the Captain and she was _not_ happy. Her little prodigy is ignoring the structure she holds so dear. I feel almost bad for her." 

"For Seven?" Harry asks. 

"No!" B'Elanna playfully throws her muffin at Harry. Harry catches it and places it back on her tray while she continues talking. "For the Captain. Seven's a handful. I can't believe she wants to make her more human." Tom thinks back to the time when the Captain plucked him out of Auckland. It was the best day of his life. Not only was he going to be able to go on a starship again, he would be able to get away from his tormentors. He doesn't think the Captain knows what mercy she paid him. 

"She likes picking the tough cases," Tom notes wisely as he takes a sip of his coffee alternative. It doesn't taste half bad. His friends regard him, everyone remembering how he was the Captain's first project. With her help and the help of Harry, he feels that he came a long way. He has many friends and _two_ close friends now. He looks at B'Elanna. One can even be his lover if he lets her. He decides to flirt a little. He's in a good enough mood. 

"I like your braid, B'Elanna." He reaches out to touch her hair gently as he says it. It's the oldest move in the books; compliment together with a small touch, but she smiles anyway. Harry looks at Tom. He guesses he must have finally talked to the Doctor. He seems in a better mood. Harry smiles. 

"Thank you," she purrs, a little surprised but ready none-the-less. He pulls his hand back and smiles knowingly at her before picking up his tray to leave. She watches him go, catching herself staring at his well-formed ass. When Tom and his perfect ass are out of sight, she turns to Harry who is finishing his orange juice. She never sees him drink coffee. It makes him seem more childish than he already is. "Do you know what is up with him?" She gestures to the door where Tom just exited. "One minute he's flirty, the next he shuts me out." Harry regards her, debating how much is safe to tell her. 

"He's...um...working through some tough stuff right now." He adds, "I'm sure he'll come around." B'Elanna presses him for more. 

"What sort of stuff?" Harry realizes she won't let up unless he tells her what he knew. She has an uncanny ability to know when she isn't getting the full story. _Must be a Klingon thing,_ he thinks. He lowers his voice to a whisper and leans across the table to her. 

"I think he was raped at Auckland." Her eyes widen. "He almost strangled me when I woke him up for the red alert. Thought I was one of _them_." 

"Oh wow." She looks down at her half-finished breakfast and decides the toast wasn't half bad. She picks it up. "Poor Tom." 

"Yeah. It's a shame we don't have a councilor on board. They'd really be able to help him." 

"Maybe we should make one." 

"I don't know. Tom and I tried when the Doctor was on the other vessel. Medical personal holograms are just too complicated." 

"For you perhaps. I took a class at the Academy on holographic engineering. I'm sure I could put something together. We could keep her on the holodeck, then we wouldn't have to worry about her matrix exploding if we aren't perfect." They continue their breakfast with plans on how to make the best councilor possible. Harry will speak with the Captain about their idea to get her approval. He is sure she'll be happy for the new addition. When he tells her, the Captain even suggests outfitting part of a cargo bay as the councilor's office. Harry counters that vacant quarters might be a more comfortable option. She agrees and pulls up a schematic of _Voyager_'s living quarters. When they first left dock, every room was taken. Now that they'd lost a few people, _Voyager_ has the space for a councilor. There, she points. _Deck seven._ Harry smiles. It's Tom's deck. He will be able to come and go easily. With the plans in place to refit the crewman's quarters into a functioning councilor's office, Harry leaves to tell B'Elanna. 

B'Elanna is just as happy about the results. She suggests meeting in the hololab after her shift, which will finish in another thirty minutes. Harry heads over there now to reserve the space and to begin working on the basic mesh. When B'Elanna arrives, he'd managed to form the first version of the mesh. B'Elanna looks it over. She tweaks a few parameters before getting it online. A dark-haired brunette with the large pupils of a Betazoid stands stock still before them. Together they program through dinner. By the time they finish, they have everything done except for adding the database of therapy knowledge itself. They decide to save that for tomorrow after they test the counselor's personal skills. Due to their experience with the Doctor, they are both a bit warry about her interpersonal skills. They don't want her to come off as cold in any way. 


	4. PLAIN HOT Tomato Soup?

B'Elanna and Harry return to the hololab the next day at the agreed upon time. Harry starts the program and begins talking to her to gauge her skills. B'Elanna smiles at the program's skills. She has a very warm personality and seems to even pick up on Harry's emotions like a true Betazoid. _Of course she does, I programmed that._ She can practically be a therapist as she is now. B'Elanna shuts down the program and saves a copy in case the therapy knowledge corrupts it in some way. She begins the transfer of therapeutic knowledge to the holographic Betazoid. The database includes everything from play therapy—there is Naomi to think of as growing up on a space ship alone can't be great for her—to cognitive and behavioral therapy. They add a few more details: a default greeting that could be changed later, a name, and the knowledge that she's a hologram with a job to fulfill on a lost spacecraft. B'Elanna boots up the program with her fingers crossed. Lyla greets her. 

"Hello, what brings you in today?" She says it with a gentle smile. Then she looks around the white hololab as if seeing her surroundings for the first time. They had removed her memory of her first activation this morning. B'Elanna worried it could compromise her now. "Whe-Where am I?" 

"You are in the hololab aboard _Voyager_," Harry answers her. "I'm Harry." He gestures to B'Elanna. "She's B'Elanna. Do you know who you are?" 

"What a silly question. Of course. I'm Lyla. I'm here to counsel the crew." Harry beams. 

"That's right! We have an office for you. Would you like to see it?" 

"Yes, very much so. Lead the way." 

"I'll send you over now. We'll be by in a moment." B'Elanna enters a few commands as she talks and Lyla's form shimmers out of existence when she finishes. Harry turns around and looks at her. 

"Well?" He asks. 

"I think we did it!" B'Elanna smiles widely as she shuts the systems of the hololab off. She walks with Harry to the proper quarters on deck seven. The find the room easily enough: seven doors from Tom's quarters. When they buzz, the soft, sweet voice of Lyla answers. 

"Come." Harry opens the door and the pair step inside. The quarters no longer look like sleeping quarters. An engineering crew had been in here earlier to install the holographic emitters and move furniture in and out. There is a large desk in the corner, two arm chairs, and a large couch with several pillows. The chairs and couch sit across from each other with a different angle for either chair. Lyla sits in the one closest to the desk. B'Elanna and Harry take a seat on the couch. To B'Elanna's left is a small end table with a box of tissues and a pot of yellow flowers. 

"Is there anything you need? Couple's counseling perhaps?" B'Elanna laughs. 

"No. Harry and I are just friends. We have another friend that we want you to reach out to. His name is Tom Paris." She looks at Harry, wondering if she should continue. 

"Yes, I know him." B'Elanna looks confused before Harry answers. 

"I gave her _Voyager_'s roster and personnel files." He shrugs. "Figured they'd help her with treatments."

"Good idea." She turns to address Lyla. "He well, he spent some time in Auckland, a prison, and we have reason to believe that he was...hurt there." She shies away from the proper word. 

"Hurt how?" Lyla inquires. 

"He was raped." Harry answers when he realizes B'Elanna's discomfort. 

"Oh my." She puts a hand to her mouth. "I'm glad you came to me." She chuckles. "Or I guess he's the reason you made me at all. I'll have to thank him." B'Elanna smiles. She knows she is doing the right thing. "I'll find him sometime this week. Thank you for stopping by. And feel free to come to me any time." She looks at B'Elanna at this last statement. She feels that the Betazoid knows the real reason she had shied away from the word. If Harry notices her attentions, he doesn't say anything. They get up to leave. 

"Thank you for helping us. We'll see you around," B'Elanna tells her. Harry pauses before exiting. He turns around looking like he suddenly remembers something he has to say. 

"I almost forgot to tell you. You have the ability to turn yourself off or prevent yourself from being turned off. Just say, 'Computer' and whatever else you need." Lyla nods. 

"That will be most helpful. Have a good rest of your day. Don't forget to eat dinner." With that, the pair exited to let the new hologram settle into her environment. After a moment she bids the computer to shut her down until 0900 the next day. Harry and B'Elanna head for the messhall to have dinner. 

**=/\=**

After his shift, Tom slips into the turbolift with Tuvok. He's a tad nervous about asking the Vulcan for help, but reminds himself that the Vulcan won't breath a word to anyone unless it is life or death. He manages to ask as the turbolift rumbles to Tuvok's quarters on deck four. 

"Tuvok, I was wondering if you would help me to process some, um, memories." The stalwart Vulcan looks at Tom. "...They've been giving me nightmares that I want to stop." 

"I can help you. But know that it won't be an easy fix. It could take months or years to rid yourself of their hold on you." Tom nods. 

"I understand. When can we meet?" 

"As we are both concluding our shifts, the present moment seems our the best option." Tom agrees. "Come with me to my quarters and we can begin." Tuvok leads them to his quarters when the turbolift stops on the appropriate level. He enters his entry code and the door swooshes open. He steps in first and calls for lights as he gathers a few things necessary for meditations: two long candles in candlesticks, a box of matches, and a soft ceremonial cloth to place them on. He sets them on the low coffee table and sits crisscross on one side of it. He gestures for Tom to take the seat at the opposite side with one hand. Tom sits down with his legs crossed and watches as Tuvok sets the candles on the cloth and lights them. 

"We will begin with an ancient breathing exercise. Children of Vulcan typically learn this exercise in their first three years so I have no doubt that you will be able to master this skill." Tom ignores the thinly veiled insult. "Now, close your eyes. Allow the world around you to disappear. Only hold on to my voice." He pauses while he waits for Tom to close his eyes. "Breath in and out slowly. Do not try to order your thoughts, this will only make them more hectic. Instead, observe their passing but don't let them carry you away. You will soon see the memories that plague you." Tuvok notices Tom tense as he likely encounters the troublesome memories. He places a reassuring hand on Tom's shoulder. "Know that you are safe. These memories can not harm you." Through their contact, Tuvok catches snippets of Tom's memories. It isn't as strong as a mind meld, but he is still surprised the young man holds them and does as well as he does now. He vows never to underestimate Tom again. "Observe their passing. See that you are not part of them any longer. Let them leave or linger as they please." He sees Tom pinned, sliced, penetrated and gagged among other things as the memories come to their shared consciousness. Some linger for several moments, wishing to cause further torment, others are merely fleeting glimpses. 

After several moments, Tuvok begins to sense a calming in Tom's mind. He is beginning to see that the memories are not dangerous to him at this present time. 

"Good, now, with your next breaths, urge the memories away. Blow them away, so to speak, when you breathe out." Tom does as he is told. It takes a few tries for the first one, but once he manages that, the rest leave him easily. Soon his mind is clear. He opens his eyes, smiling. 

"Thank you, Tuvok. That helps a lot." The Vulcan withdraws his hand. The soft pressure of Tom's mind against his fades as their contact breaks. 

"The effect won't be permanent. I suspect they will be back within a few hours. Do this exercise before sleeping. You will notice a significant improvement to the quality of sleep you experience. Come back to me in a week and we will practice another exercise," Tuvok says as he stands to walk Tom out. Tom follows his lead and leaves Tuvok's quarters. Once Tom is gone, Tuvok settles back in front of the coffee table to cleanse his mind of what he'd just witnessed before the memories can burrow further into his psyche. 

Tom heads for his quarters. He feels lighter and more at peace than he has felt in a long time. He smiles broadly. It gives him a renewed sense of energy. He thinks he'll use it to add another chapter to the Captain Proton holostory. Midway through his additions, his terminal buzzes. _Curious._ He opens the communication video. A female Betazoid he doesn't recognize greets him with a warm smile. 

"Tom Paris I presume?" Tom nods, wondering how she knows him. "I'm Lyla, the ship's new counselor." _Huh, I didn't know there's a new counselor._ He wonders who programmed her as he doubts they found a trained Betazoid in the Delta Quadrant. "Your close friends informed me of your situation." Tom knows who had programmed her immediately. He feels touched, light even with the knowledge and the weight of his nightmares gone. _Just how did I come to deserve B'Elanna and Harry?_ "Do you wish to meet in person sometime? I have much training in therapeutic technique and medication. I believe I can rid you of the pain that accompanies certain memories." She doesn't need to elaborate for Tom to know what memories she alluded to. 

"I'd like that. When are you available?" 

"As you are my first client, you have free choice over the time you'd like to meet. I can be available at anytime." 

"How about two days from now, around 1800 hours?" 

"Yes, that will do nicely. I will see you then. Goodbye for now." The Betazoid—_Lyla_ Tom corrects—closes the communication video. Tom sits back in his chair. Two days from now gives him time to try out his new meditation and medication. It also gives him the time to personally thank B'Elanna and Harry. For the first time in a long time, he feels hopeful. 

Tom gets up from his chair and goes to the replicator for a meal. He asks for PLAIN HOT tomato soup and is given basil instead. He sighs as he takes the warm bowl from the replicator's base. _At least it isn't spicy like last time._ He also asks the replicator for thirteen milligrams of Prazosin like the Doctor said. The pill is small. He pops it into his mouth and swallows. He sits down to eat his dinner. He doesn't ask for a glass of water but figures the liquid of the soup will work instead. After his meal he gets undressed and sits upright on his bed under the covers. The memories haven't resurfaced yet but he isn't taking any chances. Tom takes a few minutes to meditate and pushes the memories away like Tuvok told him to. When he goes to sleep, no nightmares find him. 


	5. Do You Accept My Gratitude?

Tom surprises himself by being in a better mood today than yesterday when he finds a seat with his two friends. He sets his tray down and smiles at them. 

"Thank you for Lyla." His friends beam. 

"You're welcome," B'Elanna says. 

"No problem. It was B'Elanna's idea," Harry replies. "Have you been to see Lyla yet?" Tom shakes his head. 

"No, not yet. We'll meet tomorrow at 1800 hours." 

"Do you want some company? Or someone to walk you back?" B'Elanna asks. Tom considers it. He'd never been to therapy before. He isn't sure what sort of condition he'll be in afterwards. 

"Yeah sure; you can walk me back after. I'm not really sure how long it will be...Maybe come get me in an hour?" B'Elanna nods. She is glad Tom is going to be getting the help he needs, not just for his sake, but for hers as well. Maybe he won't shut her out anymore. That thought makes it hard for her to focus enough to eat. 

"I'll be there a little early just in case." She reaches out to squeeze the hand that isn't holding a utensil. "Good luck." She pulls her hand back to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. This draws Tom's attention to the braid there. He laughs and reaches out to touch it. 

"You braided your hair again." His eyes narrow suggestively. "I wonder why." B'Elanna smiles coyly. Harry, feeling like an intruder when he sees his friend's eyes, quietly gets up to leave. He tosses his finished tray in the reclaimer before heading up to the bridge early. 

"I don't think it's too hard to guess." She leans a little closer. "I bet you can guess." 

"It must be Harry," Tom teases. "Boy told me he can't keep you off his mind." B'Elanna wonders how much of the statement is true. Not about Harry obviously, but about Tom. _Am I on his mind constantly?_ She likes the thought. Still, she is elated that Tom has decided to start flirting with her again. _*The counselor is a wonderful idea....*_

"Neither can I," she purrs back like she and him flirt regularly. Tom has set down his utensil and is reaching across the table to her. She sets both of her hands on top of one of his as his other hand caresses her cheek. She leans closer and lets her eyes close. It seems like he is going to kiss her over breakfast. Her heart pounds in her ears as she waits. When it seems like forever and he hasn't pressed his lips to hers, she opens her eyes to slits. She sees Tom frozen in agony and her eyes pop open. Something is going on behind his eyes. It scares her that she doesn't know what it is even if she can probably guess. _Oh, Tom._ The pounding of her heart morphs into an ache when he withdraws from her abruptly. 

"No, please don't," his voice is barely above a whisper. She'd be surprised if anyone but the two of them hears it. 

"Tom?" She brings a hand to his cheek. "Tom, it's me. It's B'Elanna." Her hand is gentle and her voice is soft but he still pulls away from her hand. B'Elanna feels hurt. She balls her hands into fists and tries again, without touching him this time. 

"Tom. You're on _Voyager_. You're safe." She hums a tune softly to break through his pain. After a moment, he finally looks like he knows where he is. B'Elanna greets him with a soft smile that touches her eyes. 

"B'Elanna, what happened?" 

"You had an..." she isn't sure what to call what just happened, "episode." That seems to fit. 

"Oh, I'm sorry you had to see that." B'Elanna brings her hands to his again. 

"It's alright. I'm more sorry you had to experience it." 

"Yeah." He is quiet a moment as he looks down at their hands. Her hands are smaller than his. They look strong though, probably from fixing all of those broken warp nacelles. "What was the tune you were humming?" She shrugs. It was something she hummed to herself when she is loosing her grip on reality. 

"Just a lullaby my father used to sing to me. It calms me down. Thought it might calm you down too." 

"It did. Thank you again." He laughs. "With everything you've done for me in just 24 hours, I'll have to repay you somehow." B'Elanna's eyes darken, forgetting the events of the past few moments. 

"I know a way you can do that." Catching her meaning, Tom drops his eyes. Flirting is one thing. Asking to bed the other is an entire thing all together. 

"B'Elanna, I don't think-" he winces. He feels a stubborn lump in his throat. "I don't think I _can_. Not now any way." 

"Sorry, sorry," she pulls her hands away. "I don't know what I was thinking. Forget I said anything. 'Kay?" 

"'Kay," he replies with a weak smile. Then looking at the chronometer above her head, he stands up. "Shoot, I should get going. I'm late." B'Elanna turns around and shrugs at the time. _Being chief has its benefits._ She gets up slower and takes her tray to the reclaimer, following Tom a few paces behind him. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," she calls after his quickly retreating form. He raises his hand over his head and flicks his wrist to the side to acknowledge her. How that gesture makes her heart leap into her throat, she doesn't know. B'Elanna turns and walks toward engineering with thoughts of _Voyager_'s chief helmsman on her mind. She likes that they are both chief of something. A smile creeps over her features. It's like they are made for each other that way. 

Tom walks onto the bridge apologizing to the Captain, Chakotay, and the poor sap—Bartlett, Tom realizes—who is still working the helm since Delta shift. The Captain cuts into his apologies when he finally sits down. 

"When one's late, usually the best thing to do is to make a _silent_ entrance," she teases. "You did go to the Academy, Tom? I thought you'd know this already." 

"Yes, Captain. And I take pride on never being late to a class there." She's impressed. Though, if she's honest, Admiral Paris probably expected no less and he was a teacher during Tom's time there. Chakotay leans over the armrest separating them. 

"Want me to reprimand him?" He asks quietly so Tom can't hear him. Kathryn lifts her hand to dismiss the idea. She leans closer to reply. 

"No, the Doctor told me Tom's been facing his personal demons as of late. He recommended we give him some space to do so." Chakotay nods. The Captain thinks back to her conversation with the Doctor. He didn't get into details due to doctor-patient confidentiality, but he didn't need to. He had alluded to a rough experience at Auckland and how the memories associated with that had resurfaced. She heard rumors of the place. She has a pretty good guess as to what her best pilot is suffering from. It pains her to think that he'd been a victim and that now is probably the first time he has been able to confront that. She wonders if the councilor Harry suggested had anything to do with Tom's recovery. She hopes so. Even in this day and age, it is difficult for a man to open up about that sort of experience. Usually, rape is deemed a crime against women and girls. Rarely is it considered that a man can be hurt by it. She's glad she managed to pull him out of there even if it was a bit late for the pain that plagues him now. 

Tom's shift goes by easily. He relaxes that night by finishing the Captain Proton chapter he'd been working on when Lyla called him. He has lasagna and water for dinner along with his Prazosin. He meditates for a few minutes before going to sleep. He recalls for a brief moment that he did dream but the shadows of it fade so quickly he can't recall if it was even a nightmare. Tom's overjoyed that Prazosin and the meditation are working for him. He gets ready for his day. Tom looks forward to the third part of his treatment. He wonders what Lyla would have for him. 


	6. Do You Have a Good Idea?

Tom sees Lyla after he unwinds from his shift. She had left him a message apologizing for not telling him where she is and follows that statement with her room. It's on his level. Five minutes before 1800 hours, Tom leaves his quarters and finds Lyla's. He knocks tentatively, not sure if she will be active or if he should go in and activate her. 

"Come," to his surprise, he hears her voice through the door. Tom presses the button to open the door and walks in. The room looks cozy. It's an ensign's quarters. While ensign quarters are hardly large enough to live in, they do fine as a large office. He judges it larger than the Captain's ready room and that doesn't include the alcove where he knows the restroom will be. 

"Good evening, Tom." Lyla sits in an armchair. She gestures toward the couch. He sits down next to the tissues and bright yellow flowers. They look happy to see him. 

"Good evening, Lyla." Tom settles into the couch. He props his feet on the coffee table. She doesn't object. 

"I first want to gather a few things from you." She pulls out a notebook and flips it open. "Your medical files say you are taking thirteen milligrams of Prazosin? How is that going for you?" 

"I don't have nightmares through the whole night any more. When I have them they are," he searches for the word, "duller somehow. And I don't really remember them well." She nods as she writes. "I also have been doing some meditation with Tuvok. He's Vulcan and very good at meditation. It helps clear my mind when I am not sleeping." 

"That's very good. I'm glad to hear that you feel you've been improving already. Now, why don't we start with discussing what you remember?" Tom nods slowly. He hasn't meditated since last night and already the memories swirl around his head like so many angry sharks. He tells her about his memories for the next hour. He has to use the tissues a few times. When he curls up into a ball, she suggests that he doesn't. It will make him feel more vulnerable being so small. She's right. When he uncurls, he feels a little better and a little stronger. She ends the session with an overview of what she wants to try with him. He is only half listening as he meditates to push the memories from the forefront of his mind. It makes him feel a little better to be able to open up and be honest with someone who won't judge him, think he is lying, or look at him with enough pity to drown himself in. But talking opens up old wounds. She walks him to the door and is happy to see B'Elanna waiting for him. When Tom walks past B'Elanna, Lyla leans in to whisper in her ear. 

"He's a little fragile right now. Be careful." B'Elanna nods. She isn't planning on doing anything but walk him back. Although, she'll talk with him if he asks. She runs to catch up to Tom. Her feet echo off the bulkheads like a high-pitched drum. When she catches up, she links her arm with his. His warmth feels nice and familiar somehow. 

"Well, how was it?" 

"It hurt." 

"Oh," B'Elanna looks down at the floor. 

"But I think she will be able to help me." Tom smiles down at her. B'Elanna looks up to find him smiling and smiles back. She pats his arm with her free hand. 

"I'm so glad you think that." They quickly reach his quarters. He doesn't let her slip out of his arms. When once his embrace was soft and comforting, now it's tinged in heat and desire. 

"Come inside with me?" She sees the longing in his eyes. 

"I-I don't think that's such a good idea. Lyla said you'd be fragile." Tom makes a face. 

"I know I am. But think, if I can do something now then...." He isn't sure how to explain it to her. He doesn't think she'll understand his desire to try even if it hurts him. Maybe it'll be like exposure therapy; maybe it'll help him recover faster. 

"Then you rest easy knowing you can be like yourself again." She sums it up so perfectly. _*How does she do that?*_

"Exactly." 

"Alright, but I'm going to stop you at kissing." 

"Good idea." He shakily opens his door without removing his gaze from her. He feels that any moment now she'll laugh in his face, call him a pig, and walk away. Instead, she walks into the room ahead of him and sits on the couch. Tom sits down next to her. He is a little unsure as to what to do next. B'Elanna uses her hand on his cheek to turn his head to her and he suddenly knows what to do. He brings a hand to the side of her face and dips his lips to hers. There's no pain below the surface this time. He's pleased. He pushes her back to the cushions of the couch, wishing to secure his dominant position to ease his lingering doubts. B'Elanna lets him take control. Lyla's words urge her to give him all the control he desires. She wants him to be comfortable with her. She wants more than just kissing, but she's willing to go slow for him. There will be time enough for more. 

Their tongues explore everything they touch. Tom's aggressively staying in B'Elanna's mouth most of the time. B'Elanna doesn't push for access to his unless he backs down. She doesn't want to seem aggressive for fear that it will trigger an episode of his. He circles her tongue with his. He flits over the back of her teeth. He prods at her cheeks. She sucks on his tongue gently the whole time. Then he pulls his tongue back to allow her a chance to explore. She prods at the tip of his tongue curiously before making a thorough survey of his mouth. She finds a barely chipped tooth and a capped tooth on opposite sides from each other. She circles his tongue with a moan before retreating to her own mouth for their dance to repeat. 

They part when the need for unhindered air overcomes their need for each other. They look at each other. Their eyes speak in spades. B'Elanna smiles and touches Tom's face gingerly. She waits a moment before letting her hand drift to the hem of his off-duty tunic. When she begins to lift it, Tom grabs her wrist to stop her. She starts. 

"I have scars," he whispers. She raises an eyebrow, but then relaxes her face in sympathy. If anyone can understand not wanting to show her scars, she can. 

"It's alright." Tom slowly releases her. He sits up and pulls his shirt off himself. B'Elanna follows him into a sitting position. Her fingers move across his chest over the patterns of hair and scars. She dips to kiss one rather large scar. It's crescent shaped, but lacks the telltale divots of a bite. The edges are smooth, like a knife cut. She realizes that it probably is a knife that caused it. An idea strikes her suddenly and she presses her teeth over the scar. She breaks skin. Tom jumps away after she releases him. 

"What was that for?" His hand covers his chest. It comes away red with blood and he presses his hand to it again to stop the bleeding. 

"I was hiding the other scar. I'm sorry, I should have asked first." Tom considers it. B'Elanna's bite marks might be a better sight than the slashes over his torso. The bleeding finally stops enough for him to get a good look at the bite. It covers the crescent shaped cut perfectly. He likes that he can see the teeth divots of B'Elanna. He thinks if she replaces all his scars with good memories, it won't be so hard to look at himself in the mirror. He might even be willing to take his shirt off in public again. 

"It's fine. It's a good idea actually." B'Elanna's surprise colors her soft features. 

"So, does that mean you want me to bite you again?" 

"Um, not just yet, maybe another time. It's kind of late." B'Elanna nods, realizing she has overstayed her visit. 

"When is your next session? Can I pick you up again?" Tom nods. 

"It's next Tuesday for the same time. I'll be seeing her twice a week for the next few weeks." B'Elanna nods as she stands up. She steps over to Tom. She places her hands on his forearms to urge him to stand. His arms are soft and lightly furred under her palms. When he's standing, she wrapps her arms around his neck and pulls herself to her toes to kiss him sweetly. Tom returns the kiss passionately. She drops to her toes a moment later. 

"I'll see you then." She turns around to leave. Tom watches her go, feeling...different. He isn't sure how else he can describe the slightly floaty feeling as he goes to the bathroom to clean his new cut. After clearing away the dried blood he examines it in the mirror. The bite is a bit wider than the cut is. Tom thinks that when it heals, the bite will obscure the cut nicely. He smiles to himself. Now he has four forms of therapy: the Doctor's medicine, Lyla's therapy, Tuvok's meditation, and B'Elanna's love bites. The last makes him smile like an idiot. 


	7. How Does a Klingon Say 'I Love You'?

When next Tuesday rolls around, Tom feels excited but also apprehensive. He finds that he trusts Lyla even if he is worried he'll come out this time a bawling mess. When he rings the door chime, Lyla answers with a clear 'Come'. Tom opens the door and steps inside. 

"Good evening, Tom. How has your week been?" Tom takes a seat on the couch. He props up his feet like he had the last time. 

"Good." 

"Anything new you'd like to tell me? A change in symptoms perhaps?" He raises a hand in a motion that mirrors the Captain's familar hand wave and shakes his head. 

"No new symptoms. But, I was able to kiss B'Elanna." Her eyes narrow thinking that B'Elanna had taken advantage of Tom in his fragile state. Tom continues, sensing that she is uneasy. "I asked her to. She let me be in control. The only time I wasn't was when she bit me." 

"She bit you? What for?" Lyla pulls out her notepad. Tom's surprised, he thought she should know that biting is Klingon affection. 

"She's Klingon. That's how Klingons show affection." The bite from Sakari comes to mind briefly. "She is also trying to cover an old scar from-from before." He looks down, suddenly feeling vulnerable, almost naked. 

"Ah, I see. And does that upset you?" 

"No, actually. I think it was kind of sweet. It would be nice to look in a mirror and not be reminded of that time for a change." Lyla nods and laughs. Tom doesn't see what's so funny. 

"Then I suggest you continue your treatment. Doctor's orders," she jokes. Tom laughs then. His therapist telling him to be bitten by a half-Klingon certainly is funny. It feels good to laugh over this whole ordeal. It started to feel overwhelming; everyone wants to help; everyone watches him. He swears even the Captain has been treating him rather lax lately. Whenever he turns around and catches her watching him, she wears a sympathetic look in her eyes. He thinks the Doctor might have mentioned something to her. Maybe she guessed, or maybe the Doctor told her everything. He doesn't know and doesn't care. What was done is done. If the Captain wants to be lenient with him, he won't complain. Tom's attention is brought back when he hears Lyla jot a few more things down. He resists the urge to peer over her notes. He thinks that if he had asks, she'll show them to him. They are about him after all. He probably has a right to see them. 

"I'd like to try something a little different today. It's called guided meditation. It may be similar to what you are already doing with," she glances down at her notes for his name, "Tuvok. Would you like to try?" Tom nods. Tuvok's meditations work well for him. "Alright then. Close your eyes and find a central place to be among your thoughts." Tom does as he is told. Amid the sea of memories, both good and bad, he finds a clearing and focuses on it. He practices the breathing Tuvok coached him on to keep the area clear. "I want you to focus on a memory. It can be good or bad. This is just to practice." Tom searches around him at the memories swirling overhead. He catches one out. It was of B'Elanna, when they were in the caves of Sakari. 

"Have you found your memory?" Tom nods. "Describe it for me." 

"It's from an away mission. B'Elanna and I are on the planet Sakari looking for gallicite, only we got trapped by a cave in." He shifts as the memory replays itself and he pins B'Elanna to the cave wall to kiss her deeply. "She was suffering from this crazy Vulcan _pon farr_ thing. It makes her want sex; makes her need it actually or else she'll die. She wants me to kiss her and I'm," he pauses to place a word to the uneasy feeling he had felt so long ago, "scared. I don't want her to know. I don't think I can help her even though I want to. I tell her no. It's like there's this shadow watching me the whole time." 

"Is the experience generally good then?" Tom thinks a moment. The fear was overwhelming, but the butterflies when B'Elanna kissed him back were more so. 

"Yes." 

"Other than scared, did you feel anything else? Any other emotion?" Tom takes a few breaths to order the memory. He lets it play again. 

"Yes. When I kissed her, I felt uneasy because she was so insistent that I help her. It was like having a bad taste in your mouth that you can't wash out. I was scared...of her. Of me." 

"Why were you scared of her?" 

"I was scared she'd force me." Saying it aloud hurt more than Tom thought it would. 

"But she didn't." 

"No." Looking back, it seems silly to think that she could. She was pretty weak then and his big mouth was good at pushing her away. 

"Why were you scared of yourself?" That's harder to answer. He can't find a definite reason behind it. 

"I-I don't know." 

"Give yourself a moment." Tom does. The reason rises up to greet him like a wave. 

"I was scared I'd hurt her." A violent image of him pinning B'Elanna. Her screams and tears when he enters her. His eyes open with a gasp. He didn't know that was in there. That he is as bad as they are. _No,_ he tells himself, _it's just a fantasy. It didn't happen._ Lyla looks at him with sympathy. 

"What did you see?" 

"I saw...The memory changed. Shadows held me down," he lies. Lyla considers him. Can she know he didn't tell the truth? She leans in. 

"Is that really what you saw?" Tom looks down and pulls his feet from the coffee table. He shakes his head, feeling queezy. 

"I'd rather not." 

"Tom, nothing you say here will ever leave these quarters. They cannot be used against you." 

"It was me. I was holding someone down. Acting as wrongly as them." 

"B'Elanna?" He nods. The frame of her screaming and crying accosts him. Lyla sighs softly. The sound of her voice brings him back. "That's quite normal, Tom. It's called projecting. Apparently, you frown upon your own victimhood more than you do on their attack." Tom nods. She makes sense and he's very glad he isn't crazy. She jots something down quickly. "What happened to you is not your fault. Remember that Tom." He smiles shyly at her. "Oh, look at the time. I'd better let you go. B'Elanna must be waiting." Tom's face pales a few shades at her name. Lyla stands and pulls him to his feet. She squeezes his shoulders. "Don't worry about what you saw. You know you won't hurt anyone like that. You didn't in prison. You won't on _Voyager_." Tom slowly nods and lets her lead him to the door. He isn't too sure. People can be cruel. He knows that painfully well. 

B'Elanna is on the other side of the door. Lyla lets Tom walk out on his own steam. She can't help him past the threshold anyway. B'Elanna takes up his arm and looks quizzically at Lyla. She smiles softly. 

"Go easy on him." Then she winks. B'Elanna realizes Tom must have told her about last time. She doesn't mind even if it makes her blush now. Lyla isn't exactly part of the regular crew. As far as she knows Tom is her only patient. Besides, she doesn't think Lyla will betray his trust by sharing anyway. B'Elanna turns her attention to Tom. She helps him down the corridor to his quarters. He seems stiff in her arms, robotic even. She wonders what happened behind that door. She's about to ask when Tom pulls her inside his quarters. The door closes behind them. Tom holds her tightly, seeming lost to her by the look in his eyes. She squirms, but with her arms at her sides, she's helpless to loosen his grip. 

"Tom, you're hurting me." Tom releases her suddenly. He walks away then too. His back's to her as he stands in front of the couch. B'Elanna feels sympathetic. 

"Sorry." 

"What's the matter?" She comes up behind him. She snakes her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back. She only reaches about halfway up his back. 

"It's hard to explain." She feels him lean back against her slightly. She welcomes his weight with a smile and steadies herself against it. 

"Try me." 

"I don't know if I should. You might be mad." Then he speaks quieter. "I might frighten you." She barely holds back a chuckle. _Me? Scared of him? No way. He's like an overgrown puppy. Even has the too big ear and paw thing going on._

"You won't frighten me. Go ahead." 

"Today we looked at old memories. She had me describe all the feelings I had about them. We found that I was projecting a few things." 

"Projecting what sort of things?" He's silent for a while. B'Elanna thinks he might not have heard her. She squeezes her arms around him slightly and then releases them back to normal. 

"My victimhood...on you. The, um," he doesn't want to call it a fantasy. That makes it sound like something he wants and that can't be more wrong. "The delusion was me holding you down. It was clear you didn't want to be." His voice grows quieter as he speaks. The unsaid feels heavy in the room. He fears her reaction. Maybe she'll push him away and call him names. He deserves it. Instead, he starts to hear a soft chuckling. It grows in volume to a full laugh. He feels her body shake with the volume of the laughter. 

"You? You think you could pin me down if I didn't want to be? Please!" She laughs harder. "I could break your spine with a twist of my wrist, Tom." Her laughter's contagious. And she has a point. Tom joins in half-heartedly. "Not to mention what I could do to your more sensitive bits. Not that I would, but if it came to it, I could." She squeezes him a little harder as if to demonstrate her strength before letting her arms fall to her sides and taking a step back. Tom turns around and watches the small engineer recover from her laughing fit. She steps around him and pulls him down to the couch. She holds his hands. He feels safe. "You don't need to worry about hurting me. I can handle you." 


	8. Wanna Learn a Cool Trick?

Tom stops by Sick Bay to see the Doctor after his shift. He no doubt wants to quiz him on how his medication affects his sleep. 

"How have you been?" The Doctor asks as soon as he walks into Sick Bay. Tom makes his way over to a biobed and sits down so that the Doctor can run his scans. 

"Good." The Doctor ran a tricorder sensor over Tom's upper body and head as he walks around him. 

"You seem to be handling the medicine well. Nightmares?" 

"Not as often or as vivid." 

"Did you manage to reach out to Tuvok or Chakotay?" Tom nods as the Doctor houses the tricorder unit. 

"Yes. I'm meeting with Tuvok again after this actually." 

"Good, good. And my therapeutic counterpart?" Tom scoffs. Other than the holographic thing, she is hardly the Doctor's counterpart. 

"We're working things out." Tom hops up from the biobed. "Is that all?" The Doctor nods. 

"Yes, you are free to go. Continue your treatment. In another week, we'll see if we can phase you off the medication. As far as I'm concerned, you may stop anytime you feel you are ready to." Tom nods and walks out of Sick Bay to find Tuvok's quarters. He arrives shortly and presses the door chime. 

"Come in," Tuvok answers. The room smells like incense when Tom steps inside. He sees a stick burning on Tuvok's wardrobe. Tuvok's already sitting crisscross in front of the coffee table. He goes to join him. "Good evening, Lieutenant." 

"Good evening. I like your incense." 

"It is necessary for the ceremony." Tom nods. He has no doubt. "We will begin with the same breathing exercise. Close your eyes." Tom does as he is told and begins breathing slowly. "Let the memories come to you. I want you to practice observing them without getting caught in the emotions." Tom sees B'Elanna's kiss outside Chakotay's quarters drift to his conscious mind. He feels the emotions when it plays, the fear, the arousal, the excitement.... "Lock out the emotions. Pretend it isn't you who you are seeing. Convince yourself that the emotions are not yours until you no longer feel them." The emotions pale. The fear turns to wariness to apprehension to nothing. The arousal turns to lust to desire to nothing. The excitement turns to happiness to nothing. Tom watches B'Elanna kiss him without feeling anything. He opens his eyes. 

"Wow." 

"Yes, this technique is a potent one. Close your eyes and seek out a painful memory." Tom does as he is told. The memory comes to him quickly. It's the first time he'd been cornered. He doesn't remember faces anymore, only body shapes, so the figures are large and shadowy like in his dreams. Three of them had backed him to a corner. At first he didn't know what they wanted, but then one of them—the closest one—undid his pants and let loose a burgeoning penis. The other men grabbed him, turned him, and pinned him to the wall. The first man reached around him to undo his pants. Tom struggled, but only managed to arouse the man further. His hands moved quickly to remove Tom's pants and boxers. Tuvok's voice finally caught up to him. 

"Don't get trapped in the memory." It takes Tom actively trying to pull himself away. "Like before, convince yourself that the memories are not yours. Picture someone else in your place if that makes it easier." Tom's memory self blurs into an unidentifiable blond-haired man. The fear transforms to wariness to apprehension to nothing like before. The agony becomes pain then discomfort then nothing. The helplessness is the last to go. It lingers like a low fog on his consciousness. Eventually, Tom wills it into vulnerability before it fades away to nothing. He opens his eyes, amazed. 

"This is a pretty cool trick." 

"It is no trick. Merely the application of focused meditation." Tuvok leans over to blow out the candles. He stands at the same time as Tom and goes to extinguish the incense. Tom thanks Tuvok before he leaves. 


	9. Maybe If I Was Holding Her?

Tom thumbs the door chime on Thursday evening. 

"Come in," Lyla replies. Tom opens the door and enters. He takes his customary position on the couch with his feet on the coffee table across from Lyla. Once he settles, Lyla pulls out her notepad. 

"How are you today?" 

"Good, I learned a new technique with Tuvok yesterday. It's pretty cool actually. You focus on a memory and then distance yourself from the feelings. Makes everything harmless." 

"That sounds like a good exercise for you. And the nightmares?" 

"I haven't had one since last we spoke." She nods and jots this down in her notepad. She looks up again. 

"We are going to try a little exposure therapy." Tom tenses slightly. He isn't so sure. "It has proven effective in cases of post traumatic stress disorder as is what I believe you are suffering from." Sensing his unease she continues gently. "We will start slow and continue over many sessions. I believe that by the end of it, you will feel much better." 

"What will we be doing today?" 

"I'm glad you asked. Computer, activate program Lyla five." A holographic B'Elanna shimmered into being in the second armchair. She looks in Tom's direction with a look that he recognizes. He's surprised Lyla managed to program _that_ into her. "I took the liberty of creating a holographic B'Elanna for our purposes. I figured you'd be more comfortable with her over me. If you don't like her, I also have a texture-less version or a copy of myself as I am. the texture-less version would be only one color, like a mannequin," she clarifies. Tom shakes his head. 

"Holo-B'Elanna is fine." 

"She won't talk, but she will do as I tell her. B'Elanna sit on the couch next to Tom." The holographic B'Elanna moves to sit next to Tom. She doesn't take her eyes off him the entire time she moved. Tom gulps and takes his feet from the coffee table so that he's prepared to spring if need be. "I'll have her kiss or caress various parts of your body so that you can recognize that this affection is not dangerous. The touches are programmed so that I can observe and guide you. Would you like to proceed?" He can say no. He can ask for a different treatment. But he really wants to be there for the real B'Elanna. He finds himself nodding. 

"I'd like to proceed." 

"Good. B'Elanna begin script one." The holographic B'Elanna reaches up to touch his cheek. _Okay I can handle this._ It isn't any more difficult to handle than when the real B'Elanna pulls him into a kiss. Tom relaxes slightly. She puts her other hand on his other cheek and turns his head to her. She rests her forehead against his. Holo-B'Ela kisses Tom's forehead and the tip of his nose in quick succession. Tom tenses as he realizes where she is heading. She places a chaste kiss on his lips before tracing a line of kisses down his neck. She pulls her hands away from his face and lets them run down his chest. They rest on his hips, a few inches each from his groin. He's a little uncomfortable with their placement but manages to quell the rising panic. Holo-B'Ela kisses Tom again. She doesn't attempt to French him at all which Tom's grateful for, but the kiss is more drawn out. She pulls away after a moment, taking her hands with her and folding them into her lap like nothing just happened. 

"I noticed B'Elanna made you feel uncomfortable a few times. Do you think this is because of the situation or because of her actions?" 

"Her actions. I didn't like her hands so close to me. I was frightened. I felt close to panicking." 

"What do you think would have made her actions more bearable?" Tom considers her question. 

"If I was holding her similarly? I don't really know." 

"Why don't we try that. Go ahead and place your hands wherever you'd like to this time. B'Elanna, begin script one." B'Elanna moves back to Tom to repeat her actions. When she places both her hands on his face, Tom moves his hands to her waist. When B'Elanna's hands drifts to his hips, he mirrors her. He pulls away when she does. The ordeal is much more bearable this time. Whether it's from the repetition or from the hands is impossible for Tom to discern. He tells himself that it's because of the hands because that makes it repeatable. 

"You certainly looked more comfortable this time. Is that how you felt?" Tom nods. "Great." Lyla jots something in her notepad. "I'd like to try one last exercise," she says when she looks up. "Computer, replace program Lyla five with program Lyla seven." A slightly taller holographic man with mussed hair replaces the holographic B'elanna. He wears the same look that B'Elanna wore. Tom thinks that the holographic man looks much like a male version of B'Elanna, minus the forehead ridges. Tom doesn't realize that he tensed until Lyla calls him out on it. "Are you alright, Tom?" He wills his muscles to relax. The hologram isn't going to hurt him. Tom nods. 

"I-I'm fine." 

"Do you want to continue?" 

"If you think that's best, doc." 

"I do. Max, begin script one." Max places his hands on either side of Tom's face like B'Elanna had before. He feels himself tense when the hologram kisses down his face and on his lips. Tom wills himself to relax. He repeats to himself that the hologram won't hurt him. He puts his hands on the hologram's waist. The gesture grounds him somewhat. Max presses his hands to Tom's chest and begins moving downward. Halfway to their desired location, Tom speaks up. 

"Stop!" His voice is high and frightened like a baby bunny. The hologram stops immediately. Tom feels better. He hadn't expected Max to stop but it makes him feel in control. The hologram looks expectantly at him. 

"In a healthy relationship, when one partner wishes to stop, the other obliges. Do you understand me, Tom?" He nods his head. Tom presses his hands to the hologram's hips. 

"Okay." The hologram continues its downward quest. It rests its hands on Tom's hips like the holo-B'ela had. The hologram leans forward to kiss him. Tom is surprised to find himself okay with the affection. After a moment, Max pulls himself away. 

"Computer, end program Lyla seven." Tom watches as Max shimmers away. He doesn't realize he had held his breath until after Max is gone. He lets it out slowly. 

"Was the experience of telling Max to stop and seeing that he did a positive one?" Tom thinks that she asked a dumb question. 

"Yes, of course it was." 

"Do you think B'Elanna would stop if you asked her to?" 

"Yes," he replies immediately. A weight he didn't realize was weighing him down lifts suddenly. 

"I'm glad you found the exercises helpful. We will continue more next time. For now, I think that's all you need to do." She stands up to walk Tom to the door. "I look forward to our next visit." She opens the door to reveal B'Elanna sitting on the ground with a PADD in her hand, reading. She looks up when the light from Lyla's room spills over her. B'Elanna rises to her feet as Tom leaves Lyla's room. She links arms with Tom, relishing the familiar warmth of him. Once Lyla closes the door and Tom with B'Elanna are a few feet away, B'Elanna speaks. 

"Did everything go alright in there? I heard you tell her to stop loudly. I almost broke in." She doesn't tell him that the door didn't accept even her engineering override. It makes her uncomfortable to know that she would have been helpless to help him. Tom nods. 

"I wasn't telling her to stop, I was telling Max to stop." 

"Max?" B'Elanna looks confused. 

"She programmed a holographic version of you and a holographic man to use for exposure therapy." 

"Exposure therapy?" They are at his door now. She opens it for them. It isn't locked. 

"They touched and kissed me. I told Max to stop when he was touching my chest since it was the third time the script ran and I knew his hands would wind up on my hips." They got to sit on his couch facing each other. Each has a leg folded under them. 

"Huh. Did he stop?" 

"Yes." He seems amazed. B'Elanna's heart clenches at his sweet amazement. "He didn't continue until I told him it was okay." 

"And holographic me? Did you tell her to stop?" 

"No. I didn't need to." He leans in then and presses his lips to hers. She's used to their after-therapy make out sessions. She covered about half of the scars on his chest now. There are still the ones on his back and wherever else she doesn't know about. Tom only let her take his shirt off. She plays with the hem of his shirt until he notices. He moves away and pulls the shirt over his head. B'Elanna pushes him down to the couch gently. She hasn't done it before and isn't sure if it's too much. Tom doesn't stop her or appear far away. He watches as she kisses down his torso, searching for an unmarked scar. She finds one and places her teeth over it to draw blood. He moans softly. She draws back and looks into his eyes, excited. _He never did that before._ He looks excited too. B'Elanna dives down to find two more unmarked scars on his chest and bites those to his sweat moans. She can listen to that forever. She has to bite the third one a few times because it's longer than her mouth is wide. She presses kisses to all of her bites then. B'Elanna's pleased to have finished his chest. She'll move on to his back next and then wherever else he has scars he wants to hide. _Only then will I give him new ones,_ she thinks mischievously. 


	10. What Was I Doing at Twelve?

Tom's sessions with Lyla continue with her exposure therapy. They will run a script with Holo-B'Ela. Next, she will ask him about any pain points and have him suggest ways to alleviate those pain points. The pain points grow few and far between after each session. After the first script, she'll run the script again with Holo-B'Ela so that he can test out whatever they suggest together. Sometimes it seems to help, sometimes it doesn't. He finds that closing his eyes raises his panic while using his hands to explore the same or further makes him feel in control. Telling the hologram to stop also helps him center himself. Lyla assures him that this is an appropriate tool to use whenever he feels uncomfortable. The holograms always stop immediately and watch him expectantly. Finally, she'll run the same script with Max. His affection is harder for Tom to accept for obvious reasons. His larger hands and scratchy face makes Tom remember memories he would rather not. But with a few stops and some kind words of encouragement from Lyla, he always feels emboldened to continue. 

The second script has him lay down with the hologram over him. The kissing and caressing are the same as the first script, albeit modified a bit for their changed position. He doesn't find it difficult at all with Holo-B'Ela. Max makes him uneasy, but he manages. The third script has him sitting again. His legs are spread around them and the position makes him a little uncomfortable with Lyla watching. The holograms caress and kiss his thighs. They caress his outer thighs first and then move along his inner thighs to within a few inches of his groin. They kiss up and down his inner thighs after their hands finish. He has to stop Holo-B'Ela for that one the first time. He didn't know how far up she will go. Lyla has to assure him that Holo-B'Ela won't touch him inappropriately for him to feel safe to continue. She only moves a few more inches up from where she had stopped before moving back down. The fourth script has him stand. The holograms caress his thighs, sides, back, and butt. They also always squeezed one butt cheek like clockwork. At the end of that session, Lyla gives him some homework. 

"I don't feel comfortable creating a script that explores you any further than they already have." He has a feeling where this is going now. "I'd like you to prove to yourself that you don't have any barriers anymore. I can give you the files for the holographic B'Elanna or Max for you to use between today and Thursday. However, if B'Elanna is willing, I'd much prefer you try the real thing. I know you spend time with her after our sessions. I'm not putting a rush on it. If you can't make it work by Thursday, then that is alright." Tom nods. He feels like he might be ready and he has Lyla to thank. 

"Thank you, Lyla. I'll do my best." It feels weird to promise his therapist that he will have sex with his best friend and _girlfriend? lover?_. He doesn't know what B'Elanna is, but she's more than a friend. Lyla stands up then to walk Tom to the door like she always does. And like always, B'Elanna is waiting for him on the other side. She smiles when she sees him. Lyla looks like she wants to say something to B'Elanna so she lets Tom walk ahead of her. 

"I think it's time." _Time?_ B'Elanna doesn't have time to ask; Tom turns around and notices she's gone. He gestures for her to catch up. _Time for what?_ She leaves Lyla to run up to Tom. She links her arm with his in a practiced motion before they make the rest of the way to his quarters. He pulls her inside like she's come to expect once they get there. Instead of going to the couch, Tom leads her to the base of his bed. He seems flustered somehow but hides it when he kisses her while they still stand. She kisses him back. He asks for entry with his tongue. She parts her lips to him. He hungrily devours her essence. His hands roam over her waist and sides like they haven't before. Lyla's words begin to make sense and she feels herself become light with nerves. Tom wraps his arms under her butt and lifts her. He spins ninety degrees and deposits her on his bed gently. She breaks the kiss and falls back on the bed. He clambers over her as she pulls herself higher in the bed. He pauses over her, watching her. He gingerly pulls her jacket from where it's tucked in her pants. He unzips it and slides it off her arms slowly like he's savoring it. She sits up so that he can pull the jacket from her back and toss it to the floor beside them. When she hears it fall to the floor, she leans back against the bed, vowing to be submissive if that is what Tom needs. Tom watches her, a silent question in his eyes. To answer, she pulls her own turtleneck off and tosses it to the same side as her jacket. She reaches to his tunic and tugs it over his head. 

She lays there. Tom doesn't move to push them further. He watches her chest rise and fall with her breathing. The motion makes her black lacy bra strain against her chest. He pulls her torso off the bed a little by wrapping an arm behind her. In a practiced motion that he forgot he knows, he twists his wrist and pinches his fingers together to free the straps. She can't help but be a bit impressed as her bra snaps forward. He pulls the bra away from her body and tosses it aside. His hands run down her torso uninhibited. They brush over her nipples and she takes a sharp breath at the sensation. Tom mistakes it as fear. Holo-B'Ela never gasped. He pulls his hands away. B'Elanna reaches for his hands before they get too far away. She places them squarely on her breasts. When she's sure he won't leave again, she lets her hands fall to the bed. She looks at him, issuing him a silent challenge. He massages her breasts carefully. Her squirming gives him courage and he dips his head to take a nipple into his mouth. It has been a while but one doesn't forget these kinds of things. When his mouth leaves her skin, he pauses, unsure what to do next. 

B'Elanna sees his hesitation and decides she'll take over a moment. She pulls him to her chest and with one leg on the bed to push them, she flips them over. She sits up once his back was on the bed. Her fingers carefully undo his pants. She slides them off slowly. She sees the hint of a scar under the hem of his right boxer. She lifts it slightly. There's another scar there indeed. It curves upward toward his groin. B'Elanna frowns. She tugs at his waistband and pulls his boxers off quickly. Tom lay still as B'Elanna touches the four scars on his thighs. She quails at the pain they must have caused. There are two cuts each on his legs. She separates his legs slightly and bends to place her teeth over the first one she had saw. She bites lightly to draw blood to cover the offending wound and keeps her mouth on the bite until it stops bleeding. Tom moans softly and she smirks against his skin. _He has a biting fetish now._ She repeats her action on the other three. He moans softly each time. _It's probably for the best,_ B'Elanna thinks as her mind treats her to some Klingon foreplay. She moves back up Tom's body to kiss him. Tom eagerly kisses her back. His hands shake as they fumble between them to undo her pants. Somehow, he manages to unbutton and unzip them. B'Elanna pulls away to take her pants and underwear off at once. She tosses them aside like a bad dream. Tom pulls her back down to him. He turns them back over. B'Elanna lands with a huff. She wants to wrestle him unto his back, but already vowed to be as submissive as he needs her to be. She squirms under him. 

Tom's chest presses to B'Elanna's. His hair rubs delightfully against her nipples, coaxing them to remain hard for her lover. B'Elanna sneaks her hand between them and her fingers wrap around his shaft. He gasps as the touch brings an unpleasant memory to the surface. 

"Stop." He isn't ready; she's too fast. B'Elanna moves her hand away and looks expectantly at Tom like Holo-B'Ela does. He wills the emotions away from the memory and then pushes it away. Only then does he think he's ready. 

"Okay." B'Elanna approaches cautiously, aware of her lover's hesitation. He lets her work him to a firm hardness. He groans when she runs a thumb over his sensitive tip, spreading precum across him. He wants her more than he can put words to. He pulls away, causing B'Elanna to release him. With his hands, he spreads B'Elanna's legs and places a hand on her mound. She grinds against it greedily, working her clitoris into a hard nub. Tom uses the finger of one hand to rub her awaiting bundle of nerves. His other hand goes between her legs into the wet folds. Three fingers enter her. They push in, curl up, uncurl, and pull out slowly. The fingers on her clitoris rub small circles with varying pressures that quickly work B'Elanna up into a frenzy. She's moaning his name now, asking him to bring her over the edge, giving him commands when his touch is too soft or too hard as she rocks against him. Tom moves his hand inside her faster. Her skin slaps wetly as he works her over. Her stomach is tight. She feels herself close. She clamps down against the rising tide but is still surprised when it drowns her. Her body's rocking slows at the same time that Tom's efforts do. He pulls away from her and watches with a deep possessiveness as she breathes slowly to bring her body back into check. His chest surges with pride, happy that he just did that. 

B'Elanna looks at him when she finally returns from her high. Her eyes are inviting. She spreads her legs a little further and bends her knee sideways to nudge his backside with her heel. He takes the invitation. Bracing himself on the bed next to her shoulders, he plunges into her. They share a gasp at the sweetness of their union. Tom fills her. B'Elanna silently laments as her body's adjustment to better accommodate him pulls away some of the exquisite pressure. Tom feels her walls open to meet him and he has no doubt that she wants this as much as he does. His penis throbs inside her and it takes everything not to go straight for the finish line. Tom begins pumping her with long steady strokes. He doesn't put much power behind them because he's testing the waters. He wants to make sure he won't disappear on her and he wants to find the right angle. _There,_ he thinks when B'Elanna gasps. He picks up his speed and drives into her with more force. She yelps and rocks her hips to greet his. Her motion tells Tom that her yelp isn't from pain but pleasure. Their pubic bones grind against each other delightfully. The motion only makes Tom more needy of his release. He presses on ever faster and ever harder. B'Elanna's moans grow in volume, occasionally interrupted by a small pleasurable scream. Tom doesn't relent. She comes first, arching her back against him and clenching her legs around him. He brings himself to orgasm after a few more thrusts into her tightened passage and finds himself suddenly too weak to stay up. He collapses on her, still encased in her warmth. B'Elanna breathes deeply and strokes his hair from his forehead. His efforts leave a sheen on his skin that makes his hair sticky. She plays with his hair some, making it stand on end lightheartedly. He turns his head to kiss her sweetly. They share the moment blissfully before Tom breaks away to pull out and roll off her. He kisses her cheek. She cuddles close to him. They quietly lay their for a time. Tom doesn't know how long it is before he speaks. 

"B'Elanna, how did you know all those things before?" He has a creeping suspicion that reminds him of spider legs but wants to ask anyway. B'Elanna looks up at him, then away. She traces figure eights on his chest through his hair and across his scars—_her love bites_. 

"It happened to me," she pauses, swallowing a cry she hasn't felt in years. It has been a long time since she remembered. "Twice." Tom squeezes her in his arms as if to protect her from the memories. "I wish someone had helped, but I was too proud and stubborn to tell anyone I didn't need to until now. I never even told my Mom." The implication of that sinks in. _I'm the first person she's ever told willingly._ "I think Chakotay might have guessed," she shrugs, "or maybe he thought I found him repulsive when he tried to sleep with me the first week I was on the _Val Jean_." Tom strokes her hair. He wonders how long she carried this on her shoulders. 

"When did it happen? How?" Remembering his own reluctance to share, he adds, "if you want to tell me that is." She presses her palm to his chest briefly before continuing her figure eights. 

"No, it's alright. I think Lyla wants me to see her but I'm not ready to let a stranger in. Better to talk to you." She takes a breath to order her thoughts. "I was twelve the first time, just entered puberty and, well, the boys noticed. They were older than me, high schoolers, otherwise I like to think I could fight them off." Tom winces at the collective noun. His own experience with 'they' and 'them' aren't pleasant. He doesn't wish it on even his worst enemy, much less his _B'Elanna_. "They cornered me on my way home. One of them held something sharp to my back—a-a knife. Said to come with them or they'd cut me open and leave me on the side of the road." She swallows and her voice gets small. "I was scared. I went with them. They took me to a field of maize. It was mid-July. The corn was over my head and obscured our entry into the field. I was thinking about how to get away. Maybe I could outrun them and hide with the farmer and his wife. They were older and couldn't have kids so they took a liking to a few of us outcasts." She's silent for a while. That first experience plays through her head as much without her permission as when it first happened. Her tears spill over and she hides them on Tom's chest. Tom pats and rubs her back, shushing her soothingly until her body stops shuddering. 

"You can stop if you want." 

"No, I'm already this far," she says as she wipes her tears and pulls away slightly. "Just as I was getting ready to hightail it. The biggest grabs my arm. I yell for help. The one with the knife brings it to my throat." She reaches protectively for her throat. He never noticed before, but he sees a thin scar line over where her Adam's apple would protrude if she were a guy. "He told me to shut up. I did as I was told, but whimpered as they started pulling my pants and panties off of me. Someone pushed me down. One of them held both of my arms above my head. Another two held my legs apart. The one with the knife—their leader—put the knife down and began to undo his trousers. He was hard already and pushed himself into me. I gasped. I didn't know what sex was. Never had it. I guess I was lucky my mother caught on to my puberty when she did and urged me to start contraceptive boosters." She looks up at Tom. 

"I don't think it's a secret that human men fantasize about bedding a Klingon." She shakes her head. She doesn't suppose it's a well-kept secret. Tom continues, "she was probably watching out for you in her own way." 

"I always wondered about that after that day. I wondered if she somehow knew what would happen to me there. We left only a year after that. I felt so ashamed, because even though I was terrified and repulsed, my body had other plans. I ached for release and I didn't know what to do about it. He pumped me harder and my body shuddered. It surprised him. The boy on my hands said something like 'yo, she just came!' and they switched positions after the first was done. All of them went once. Each time I came. I wanted to die when they left me. Somehow, I managed to gather myself up and walk to the farmer's house. The wife took one look at me and ushered me inside. She bared her husband from coming near, not knowing the age of my assailant but I think he listened from the other side. I told her the story and she let her husband in. He looked distraught, like I was his own daughter. I wanted to cry. I-" Her voice catches and Tom's heart leaps to somewhere beyond his body, beyond this universe. _B'elanna, my baby._ "I missed my dad. I wanted to tell him; I wanted him to beat those awful boys to a pulp; I wanted to dance on their graves." He can see the tears gathering on her eyelids again. They spill over to her cheeks but she doesn't stop talking. _My baby is so strong._ He squeezes her gently. "The farmer took me into his arms and I felt so safe. He asked who the boys were, looking ready to kill them when he released me. I said I didn't know, just some high schoolers. The wife asked if I wanted to press charges. I lamented, who would ever believe me. She pointed out that they did, and the police would once they ran their tests. I went to the police with them and nearly forgot about it until my mom got a call from them saying they found my attackers. She was confused and wouldn't look at me for a week. I never found out if it was out of shame for my situation or embarrassment at not realizing." Tom lets her relax in his arms. He hugs her close and kisses the top of her head. _God, twelve years old._ He can't imagine. _What was I doing at twelve? Probably playing games with friends and staying out a bit late._

"And the second time?" 

"The second time was at the Academy." Tom winces. He always felt the Academy was a safe place. But then again, he's an admiral's son. He doubts anyone would dare touch him. At the Academy, B'Elanna would have been a nobody, an exotic, half-Klingon nobody. "It wasn't so bad this time. I was tipsy after a party—drunk really. Someone I didn't know walked me back. Only he didn't take me to my room. I don't even remember him doing anything. I woke up naked and sticky in his bed. When I asked him about it, he said that he had to take my clothes off because of the alcohol spilled on them. I knew he was lying, my body hurt like it had just been through some rough sex, plus there was evidence that he'd came on my stomach. I shoved him. He asked me what I was complaining about, that I'd came too. That made me madder. I screamed a bunch of nasty things at him and lunged. I broke two ribs and a leg. He didn't file anything against me." She chuffs. "Probably worried I'd break every bone in his body. I got dressed and left while he whined on the ground." Come to think of it, Tom knew a guy in his fraternity who had to take a medical leave of absence. The rumor is that someone beat him after he bedded the wrong girl. He always thought the girl's boyfriend beat him. 

"I think I heard about that actually. He had to take a leave of absence. Rumor was it that a testy boyfriend beat him up for sleeping with his girl." B'Elanna scoffs. 

"Well, I guess I'm my own testy boyfriend." 

"Aw, so you aren't currently looking for one? I might not be testy, but I'm a good boyfriend anyway." He pauses. "Or am I going to have some broken bones in the morning?" She hits his chest playfully and smirks. _He just might if he keeps this up..._

"No and no." _...but I won't warn him._ "Tom, I'd be delighted to be your girlfriend." She proves her point with a kiss to his lips. He rolls them over so that she is on her back. 

"In that case," he grins mischievously. B'Elanna's pearl of laughter echoes off the bulkheads as they start to make love a second time.


End file.
